Part 12 (1/2)
”It is too late in the evening to philosophize, and I mustn't let my wick burn too low or Aunt Sabrina will know I'm using the midnight oil.
Don't be cross, dear Claire, if you don't hear from me every day; although you might suppose that up here I'd have a great deal of leisure time, somehow each day seems to bring something unexpected.
And as I said on page 2 of this voluminous letter, I am growing fond of Happy House and there is a sort of fascination about everything here.
Dear Anne, with her n.o.ble dreams, never longed to bring about the reforms that I do! One is to throw out the dreadful waxed flowers and peac.o.c.k feathers and old gra.s.ses from Happy House and fill the vases with fresh flowers. Another is to sweep through the whole blessed village and open every blind and let in today!
”And then when I'm bursting with my longing to make the whole world better, I'm suddenly reminded that I'm just a little next-to-nothing that can't even remember to act grown-up, masquerading in our Anne's shoes and daring to find flaws in Miss Sabrina Leavitt with all the n.o.ble heritage of Leavitt tradition flowing in her veins.
”Good night, littlest pal, I wish I could be with you long enough for a good, long gossip. But, by and by--”
CHAPTER XI
MOONs.h.i.+NE AND FAIRIES
”Good-evening, yellow b.u.t.tercups Good-evening, daisies white, Tell me, have you met the Moon-Queen On this pretty night?”
The little singer made a sweeping courtesy.
”How d'you do, Miss b.u.t.tercup? Do come here now and meet Mrs. Moon!”
With a gesture of exaggerated elegance she led an imaginary b.u.t.tercup out to a pool of silver where the bright moonlight slanted through the branches of an apple tree.
”Now, everybody, bow to Mrs. Moon,” and the fairy-hostess bent to the ground. Then she snapped her fingers. ”On with the music,” she cried.
Like a spirit she danced off over the gra.s.s, now scarcely more than a shadow among the shadows, now full in the moonlight, bending, swaying, leaping, arms outstretched, face lifted.
But the frolic of the fairies in the moonlight came to a sad end, for a human hand reached out from behind a tree-trunk and caught the make-believe hostess of Mrs. Moon by one thin arm.
”Lemme go!” cried the child, shrilly.
Nancy, awakened by the moonlight streaming across the rose-cabbages of her carpeting, had been lured out into the night. Halting at the raspberry patch she had heard the little singer. Cautiously, lest indeed she disturb fairies at their revels she had crept into the orchard. From a hiding place she had watched the child's mad dance.
”Sh-h! I am the Moon-Queen! Let me dance with you!” Releasing the little wriggling body Nancy threw off her slippers. ”Come!” Waving her hand she danced down through the apple trees, singing:
In their dress of yellow gold, In their petals white, I can see the fairy folk Gathered here to-night!
From the shadow the child watched her, sullenly, suspiciously. But with her loosened hair falling down over her pink dressing gown, Nancy herself looked an eerie little sprite; in a moment the child's alarm vanished. Of course she _knew_ that this must be Miss Sabriny Leavitt's niece, but it was fun, anyway, to pretend that she _was_ the Moon-Queen! And she must be very, very nice not to have ”chased” her at once! And she might stop dancing, too, any moment! So out she ran to join Nancy, with hands outstretched, and together they capered and danced around among the old trees until, quite out of breath, Nancy fell upon the soft gra.s.s.
”Oh, goodness me, what _fun_! Now come here, Miss Fairy, and tell me who you are? _Are_ you a fairy come from the Village of Tall Gra.s.s in yonder field?”
The child, completely won, dropped at Nancy's feet.
”I'm Nonie Hopworth.”
”Oh-h!” Nancy was genuinely surprised. ”Are you Davy's sister?”
The child nodded. ”Yep.” She regarded Nancy closely. ”You're _different_, aren't you?”
Nancy caught her meaning. ”Yes, I'm different--at least, I'm not exactly like----”
”Miss Sabriny or--or B'lindy. _She'd_ have chased me! That's why I come here to play at night. Anyway, it's easier to pretend at night.